Trapped in Middle Earth
by The Flamboyant Fop
Summary: *chapter 6!* A young fanfic writer gets trapped in Middle Earth against his will, and immediately manages to piss Legolas right off. Will he be able to find a way back and finish his chapter? Will be some slash later.
1. Where am I?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, done thousands of times before, I know. Tell the truth, I don't give a toss. Go on, flame me, flame me, flame me!  
  
***  
  
The boy sat at his computer desk, staring at the screen, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. Occasionally he would pause, mutter every swear word he could think of under his breath, and press the delete button rapidly. His chin-length blond hair was still in the spikes he'd brutally forced it in to that morning in a half-hour battle with some hair gel, although it was beginning to flop a little now. The phone rang. He ignored it. He accidentally spilt some pineapple juice on his grey flared cords. He didn't care. He was a fanfiction author, and nothing was going to get in the way of him finishing that bloody chapter.  
  
Except…  
  
The time was wearing on. The handles of the clock slowly ticked past midnight, then past one o'clock, two, three… Still his fingers kept dancing across the keyboard. His eyelids very slowly began to droop. He shook his head, muttering to himself.  
  
"Come on, only half a page to go, how difficult can it be to write half a bloody page of slash?"  
  
But no matter how determined to thwart the Sandman, the human body will eventually succumb. His eyelids closed, he slumped forwards onto the keyboard and began to snore.  
  
*  
  
He opened his eyes and felt the beginnings of panic. He was in a forest, all alone. His hair was sticking out uncontrollably in every direction. He raised his hands tentatively to his eyes. The carefully applied eyeliner and mascara of yesterday had run down his face, leaving little black streaks on his chin. Panic decided to run for it and was replaced by sheer, blind, terror.  
  
"Sod! Sod, sod, sod, sod, sod, sod, sod! I need a mirror!" He rooted through the little bag he always carried with him that contained all his essentials – cigarettes, lighter, body spray (lavender, naturally), an eyeliner pencil, black nail varnish, hairbrush, a quite large tub of hair wax and a small pot of green glitter – but no mirror. He began to tremble.  
  
"Please, there must be something in here, a puddle, a river, anything with a reflection, anything!" he muttered, stumbling around in desperation. He gave up when the usual tactic of 'look everywhere for about a square inch and then give up' failed to produce anything remotely reflective. He slumped down by a tree and howled.  
  
*  
  
The nine members of the Fellowship were close by and froze when they heard the howling. The hobbits huddled together. Legolas notched an arrow to his bow.  
  
"Wait here, I'm going to see what it is." The others agreed – whatever it was sounded dangerous, and there was no need for them all to go rushing in to danger, was there?  
  
The elf rounded the corner to see a boy of about 21 hunched down at the base of a tree. He was wearing a bizarre mix of clothing – grey trousers and a black top with red arms. He looked up. Legolas' reaction was one of shock. What had happened to the boy's face? The boy grinned as he saw Legolas and scrambled up. He ran towards Legolas. The elf grimaced. *Oh, my God, please don't say he's a male Mary Sue…* he thought desperately, and braced himself for a bone-crunching hug.  
  
Which didn't come. Instead, the boy threw himself at the elf's feet.  
  
"You have a shield! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!" He ran around behind the elf and starting brushing his hair and applying make-up, while Legolas stood, feeling like a total fool.  
  
"Thank you!" beamed the boy, now looking like his normal self again and feeling much happier. He gave his appearance one last check in the shield and sauntered around the corner, humming happily.  
  
The elf was stunned. Not only had this boy taken command of his shield while it was still on his back, he was also the only one of these so-called '21st Century types' that were skulking around Middle-Earth these days that had not been taken aback by his beauty. In fact, he, Legolas, had been simply ignored, while the boy gave his sole attention to his shield. Both man and woman had gazed in awe at the elf's intangible beauty, and Legolas had become used to their admiration and affection. He was mildly annoyed that the boy hadn't paid him any attention. He shrugged and sauntered around the corner, just in time to hear the end of the conversation.  
  
"Ah, here's Legolas!"  
  
"Who?" No, scratch mildly annoyed, he was very annoyed. "Oh, yeah, the elf. Hi, I'm Martyn."  
  
"Well," said Aragorn, "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Martyn, but I'm afraid we have to move on."  
  
"No, don't leave me here!" pleaded Martyn, clinging on to the ranger's arm. "I don't want to be left alone! I might encounter some, I dunno, some strange weird little gobliny creatures or something."  
  
"If we're lucky," muttered Legolas. Aragorn heard and he shot the elf a warning look.  
  
"Can you shoot?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Can you handle a sword?"  
  
"A little, if someone tells me where to stick the sharp end."  
  
"Can you cook?"  
  
"Um, not unless it's come out of the freezer with specific instructions like 'remove wrapping before attempting to heat up."  
  
"So you'll be no help to us in any way whatsoever."  
  
"Um, no, not really. Um, sorry. Um."  
  
"I think it would be best if we left you behind. Sorry."  
  
"Nooooooo!" Martyn clung even harder to the ranger's arm. "Please! I'm just an innocent fan boy! I didn't even want to be here!"  
  
"You didn't?" asked Aragorn, genuinely surprised. He smiled. "Well, of course, that's different. We've just had enough of people coming here at random and tagging along with us and trying to force poor Legolas in leather trousers and everything. We'll see if we can find a way to get you home."  
  
"Legolas in leather?" Martyn turned and studied Legolas carefully. "Nah. You haven't really got the arse for it, darling." Martyn walked on after Aragorn, leaving Legolas standing glaring after him. 


	2. Him? No way!

Thank you to my sole reviewer, WaterShadow. Glad you like it, here's more for you, hon!  
  
***  
  
  
  
The Fellowship had pushed on throughout the day, determined to reach the edge of the forest by nightfall. Martyn was at the front with Gandalf, telling him about life in the 21st century. Legolas was following them a little way behind, glaring at the interloper, still smarting from the leather comment, and half-hoping that they'd be attacked so that a stray arrow could accidentally-on-purpose hit Martyn in the leg, or, preferably, the groin. Fortunately for Martyn, their passage through the forest was only interrupted by a deer, which quickly became dinner.  
  
They made camp that night on the edge of the forest. As they sat around the campfire munching the rest of the meat, Martyn tried to entertain them with stories from the 21st century. He soon gave up, as the others kept asking him to explain such concepts as 'television', 'office' and the like, every few seconds.  
  
He took out a small pad of paper and a pen and began to write. The Fellowship regarded the largely inoffensive items as one would regard a loaded cannon pointing in one's direction with the fuse nearly burnt down.  
  
"What are you doing?" squeaked Merry.  
  
"Writing my diary. Don't worry, it won't hurt you. 'Dear Diary, am thoroughly pissed off, trapped in Middle Earth, don't know how to get back, I've missed Eastenders and am rapidly running out of cigarettes. Missed dinner with my blind date, he's probably gonna kill me if I ever get back,' he mumbled as he wrote.  
  
"You like men?" asked Boromir, trying to divert everyone's attention away from the simple, harmful act of writing.  
  
"Yeah." Instinctively, everyone turned to look at Legolas, who glared at them. "Don't worry, elf boy, you're safe from me. I don't like men with their heads rammed up their arses, it makes conversation difficult." The hobbits giggled. Gandalf suppressed a smile. The elf opened his mouth to reply, decided it would be more dignified to remain aloof, and sat down on the opposite side of the fire, talking in loud voices with Gimli. Martyn started talking in loud voices with Boromir and Aragorn. They began a bitching match across the fire, which went on for about thirty minutes. Finally Aragorn could take it no longer.  
  
"They hate each other, don't they?" he shouted to Boromir, so that everyone could hear him over the other two's shouting. "We all know what that leads to, don't we?"  
  
"Yes, they'll be joined at the lips before long."  
  
"What, him?" yelled Martyn and Legolas. They stared at each other in disgust.  
  
"That's sick!"  
  
"I would rather die."  
  
"How could you even think that?"  
  
"I just wanted you to shut up." Martyn and Legolas obliged, and glared at each other.  
  
The blissful silence lasted approximately two minutes.  
  
"Actually, I could do with a shag," said Martyn.  
  
"Don't look at me," said Legolas.  
  
"No, hon, I do actually have taste, you know." Another bitching war started. Aragorn sighed and put his head in his hands.  
  
"So," said Boromir, when they'd both paused to take a breath. "Which one of us would you rather be intimate with, Martyn?"  
  
"Hm. Tough one." Martyn surveyed the group. "Frodo has extremely gorgeous eyes, and Aragorn has such a sexy voice. But I think it would have to be you."  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"You're just so damn sexy!" Legolas got up and walked off. Boromir chuckled.  
  
"You were supposed to say 'Legolas' and fall drooling at his feet, and be completely heartbroken when he rejects you. Honestly, all this fan girl adoration has gone to his head. He'll be trying to make you fall in love with him now." Martyn laughed and stretched out by the fire.  
  
"It'll never happen."  
  
*  
  
Martyn woke up in the middle of the night. He shivered. The fire had gone out. He scrabbled around for twigs and got the fire lit again. A twig snapped behind him and he nearly swallowed his tongue. He got up, his heart pounding, ready to scream, run, panic or all three, but it was only Legolas, who had been keeping watch.  
  
"Nothing so far, it's been a quiet night," said the elf, squatting down next to Martyn.  
  
"Blimey, a civil conversation," muttered Martyn.  
  
"We've had absolutely nothing for six days," continued Legolas, pretending he hadn't heard the boy. "It's making me nervous."  
  
"An absence of things trying to kill you is a good thing, surely? It might mean they've given up." Legolas shook his head.  
  
"Or they could be going to get reinforcements and making allies with other people who want to kill us."  
  
"I'll stick to my version, it's more comforting." The elf shrugged.  
  
They sat in silence for a bit, then Legolas extended his hand.  
  
"I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier. It was arrogant of me."  
  
"Yeah, it was." Martyn grinned and shook the hand.  
  
"Do you mind taking over the watch? I could do with some sleep."  
  
"What am I watching for?"  
  
"Well, it would be sensible to look for creatures carrying sharp pointy objects that they want to stick in us."  
  
"And if I see them?"  
  
"Run. But wake us up first." 


	3. Nasty scary things...

*Huggles for everyone* Yay, some people reviewed my humble little story! :D Thankies to: Ice White Lady, WaterShadow, Keira Star, Ai and my darling Wyv! Yes there is more! *dances for joy* *stops and gets on with writing chapter*   
  
***  
  
The Fellowship was woken by Martyn's shrill scream. They found him backed against a tree, gibbering and pointing towards a large area of darkness.   
  
"What's wrong?" asked Legolas gently.   
  
"A.... a... scary person... black... scary!" was all they could get out of him.   
  
"The Ringwraiths are on to us. We'd better get moving," ordered Gandalf. He glanced at the still-gibbering young author and sighed. "And someone better look after the boy."   
  
"I will," offered Legolas. Aragorn and Boromir exchanged looks. The elf ignored them and put one arm around Martyn, whispering soothing words and helping him onto his horse. Martyn clung gratefully to the elf, burying his face in Legolas' shoulders. Legolas smirked to himself. He would win the boy over.   
  
They managed to outrun the Ringwraiths, but it was a close thing, mainly because Martyn kept screaming every time he saw a black-garbed rider. Finally Aragorn and Boromir managed to persuade him to keep quiet and when they were sure that the Ringwraiths weren't following they stopped for a rest.   
  
"Why did you keep screaming?" asked Legolas gently, when he'd managed to persuade Martyn to climb down off the horse.   
  
"I remember reading the books when I was little and I used to picture the Ringwraiths in my mind and have nightmares about them. They're even more scary when you meet them!"   
  
"Poor thing!" soothed Legolas, stroking his hair. Boromir sighed and shook his head.   
  
Later, when they were making camp and Martyn was displaying his complete ineptitude at cooking, Boromir took Legolas aside.   
  
"Stop it!" ordered Boromir.   
  
"Stop what?" asked the elf innocently.   
  
"I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to make that poor boy fall in love with you so you can reject him."   
  
"And?"   
  
"Leave him alone. It's not fair."   
  
"I didn't say it was. Anyway, it would serve him right for not giving me the adoration that I deserve."   
  
"It's not his fault that he's impervious to your looks. Maybe he just doesn't like blonds." The elf shrugged and walked away. Boromir rolled his eyes and looked back towards Martyn, who was desperately trying to put out the fire that had been dinner.  
  
Later still, they were sat at the camp fire, each passing the time in their own little way. Merry and Pippin were asleep. Gandalf was smoking. Frodo and Sam were huddled in conversation together. Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, Gimli and Martyn were talking.   
  
"I'm a writer," said Martyn. "Fanfiction, mainly." At these words, the Fellowship glanced at each other and began to surreptitiously edge away from the boy. "No, don't worry, I do Harry Potter mainly. That's a book that's popular in my world at the moment. I've got a couple of original stories as well that need to be finished. I haven't done you lot yet. I was trying to write a story, but I couldn't think of anything that sounded remotely good, I fell asleep at the keyboard and the next thing I know I'm here."   
  
"Hmm," said Gandalf, staring at the boy through a haze of smoke. "Was there anything special happening while you were writing?"   
  
"Special? In what way? Well, it was a full moon, oh, and it was also the night of the Leonid meteor shower."   
  
"Hm, so due to that unusual combination of astral phenomena a portal must have opened allowing access from your world to this, and won't be open until such an event occurs again... in about ten years time."   
  
"What? Ten years stuck here? That's absolutely terrible, that's..."   
  
What was so terrible about that they never found out because, at that precise moment, a gang of orc attacked. 


	4. This is just a temporary setback... he w...

Thank you, my darlings! Your comments (and threats) give me the strength I need to continue... here's the next chapter! (*phew*... I've avoided the dreaded tickle!)   
Ice White Lady, Silver-Kalan, WaterShadow, and Ezellohar Peridan etc etc (sorry hon, your name's too much of a challenge to write first thing on a Tuesday morning...)   
  
- Fop.   
  
***  
  
"Martyn! Get out of the way!" ordered Legolas, as he ran around the boy to dispatch the orc that were surrounding them.   
  
"I'm trying, but every time I run away I get surrounded by these horrible things!" wailed Martyn, ducking under a vicious attack and surviving by sheer luck when he tripped the orc up. "What do I do, what do I do?"   
  
"You could try fighting!" yelled Gimli.   
  
"I can't fight, I can't even punch someone!"   
  
"You're a writer, aren't you? You could write yourself some skills," pointed out Aragorn.   
  
"Oh, yeah." Martyn sat down and took out his diary, ignoring the others who had to keep jumping over him to attack and retreat, getting on with the real fighting.   
  
Suddenly there was a yelling from behind them, and Martyn burst through, wielding a huge sword and yelling at the top of his lungs, charging towards the orc.   
  
It would have been quite impressive, if he hadn't tripped over a tree root, fallen over, dropped his sword and rolled down the hill screaming. The Fellowship and the orc shrugged and got on with trying to kill each other.   
  
Martyn came back up the hill, gasping for breath and clutching a stitch in his side. He retrieved his fallen sword and, when he'd got his breath back, joined the battle, which was a bit of a waste really as there were only a handful of orc left.   
  
"Look out, Martyn!" yelled Legolas, pushing the boy to the ground. He jerked and clutched at the arrow shaft sticking out of his chest. Aragorn and Boromir killed the remaining orc and hurried to the fallen elf.   
  
"Oh my God, are you okay?" asked Martyn.   
  
"I'll be fine. Leave me."   
  
"You stupid elf. What did you do that for?" demanded Boromir.   
  
"I couldn't let the boy die, he's far too beautiful," gasped Legolas.   
  
"Will you be all right?" asked Martyn, kneeling down beside the elf and brushing his hair out of his eyes.   
  
"He'll be fine. Elves have some healing powers," said Boromir. He was grinning.   
  
"I'll be fine in about an hour. Leave me, friends."   
  
"Okay. Boromir, you were bloody marvellous, mate!" Martyn scrambled up and threw his arm around Boromir, who was laughing. The rest of the Fellowship followed apart from Aragorn, who remained with Legolas.   
  
"Well, that didn't quite go as planned, did it?" he laughed. "They're gone, you can get up now." The elf sat up, struggling to remove the broken arrow from his tunic.   
  
"How did you know," grumbled the elf.   
  
"You're the worst actor I've ever seen." Legolas finally managed to remove the arrow and sat on the ground, arms folded, sulking.   
  
"What can I do, Aragorn? I've been nice to him, I've looked after him, I saved his life I don't know how many times out there today, and I've tried faking my own near-death in the process of, and he still won't fall for me! What can I do?"   
  
"You could try giving up. Face it, the boy is not attracted to you."   
  
"Never! He will be mine!"   
  
*  
  
Boromir and Martyn were sat huddled together by the fire, laughing at the elf's antics.   
  
"What is he like?" chuckled Martyn. "He totally hammed that up, it was like watching an episode of Eastenders!"   
  
"What's Eastenders?" asked Boromir.   
  
"It's this thing we have in the 21st century. It's like a play, about some people who live in the East End of London, which is the capital city of my country. And the acting is almost as bad as Legolas back there."   
  
"Pretty awful, then."   
  
"Yes, but strangely addictive."   
  
"He won't stop until he has you under his spell, you know."   
  
"I know, but it won't work. I just don't find him attractive. I like the more rugged, handsome type, pretty-boys aren't my thing. There's someone else at this camp who I find infinitely more attractive."   
  
"Who's that? Aragorn?"   
  
"For someone so adept at spotting who's after who, you're pretty dumb when it comes to realising you're the one that's being chased."   
  
"Oh. Oh..." Boromir blushed as Martyn stared at him, smiling, and running his finger along his chin.   
  
"I love the way the firelight bounces off your eyes," whispered Martyn, moving closer.   
"Martyn, I don't..." Boromir began, but his breath caught in his throat when Martyn ran his fingers down his chest, and lower. "Like..." Boromir gave up and pulled Martyn into a ferocious, hungry kiss.   
  
Just as Aragorn and Legolas arrived back at the camp.   
  
"I don't believe it!" screamed Legolas. "How could he prefer that over me?"   
  
"It looks like your quest is hopeless," laughed Aragorn.   
  
"It is not! This is just a temporary setback. He will be mine, and I know just how to get him. And you're going to help me." 


	5. It's not working...

Hi all. Sorry this took so long. This chapter had been up on a different ID, but I hadn't updated any further due to tragic, personal circumstances. But now's the time to get writing again, and I will have another chapter up in a few days.  
  
Thanks to: *sigh*, Mort, Eze, Anita, annakas, Kevin Greenleaf, WaterShadow, The Woolhat Wearing Genie Bug, GreyLadyBast, Silver-Kalan, Erisana Eveningfall, Shukumeiko, IceWhiteLady, and big, big thanks especially to WaterShadow and Mage O'Dell, who reviewed this chapter on the other ID.  
  
***  
  
Legolas woke up the next morning in a very bad mood. The first thing he saw was Martyn and Boromir snuggled up to each other, which didn't help. He glared at the couple, then, when that failed to do anything more than make him even angrier, he decided to take out his anger on small, defenceless animals and Aragorn. He shook the ranger awake and the two set off to hunt for breakfast.  
  
"What's wrong, Legolas?" asked Aragorn, as they walked along. The elf shrugged. "It's Martyn, isn't it? Why don't you give up?"  
  
"No!" hissed the elf. "I have told you, I will not give up! You know the plan, yes?"  
  
"I do, and I think..."  
  
"Thinking is dangerous, besides, I didn't ask for your opinion!"  
  
"Legolas, merely ignoring the boy..."  
  
"Ssh! We won't catch anything with the noise you're making!"  
  
*  
  
They returned to the camp laden down with meat, just as everyone else was stirring. Martyn was nowhere to be seen. Boromir was talking to the hobbits, an idiotic grin plastered on his face. Legolas dumped his quarry and sat down next to the man.  
  
"Where's Martyn?" he demanded.  
  
"Washing in the river," replied Boromir, taking no notice of the elf's tone of voice. "He was starting to panic that he was looking less than his usual beautiful self."  
  
"Beautiful?" the elf snorted.  
  
"He is beautiful, in a strange, manic sort of way," protested Boromir.  
  
"He is not beautiful. I am beautiful. But I cannot deny that he is attractive." Boromir grinned, and turned back to the hobbits.  
  
"Boromiiiiir!" whined Martyn, emerging into the clearing. "I can't get my hair right!"  
  
"Does it really matter?" laughed Boromir.  
  
"Yes, it does! Can you help me? I want it spiky." Ten minutes later, Martyn announced himself satisfied with his hair and Boromir was trying to get rid of the unpleasant sensation of hair gel in between his fingers.  
  
"Honestly, Martyn, you're even vainer than an elf," smiled Boromir, kissing the boy on the cheek.  
  
"I know. I'm sorry, I just have to be perfect. Speaking of elves, where's old twat features?"  
  
"He's over there." Boromir pointed to where Legolas was deliberately sitting with his back to the couple. "I think he's ignoring you."  
  
"Good, he won't mind if I do this then," Martyn replied, kissing Boromir.  
  
*  
  
Later that day, when the Fellowship made camp for the evening, Legolas' temper was even worse. He'd tried ignoring the boy all day, but everywhere he turned he saw Martyn and Boromir, either kissing, sharing a private joke, or just cuddled up together in a comfortable silence. It was really grating on his nerves, and he was snapping at everyone.  
  
"It's really not working, is it?" smiled Aragorn, sitting down next to the elf. Legolas glanced over his shoulder towards the couple and sighed.  
  
"What do I have to do, Aragorn?"  
  
"Give up. I tried to tell you ignoring him wouldn't do any good." Legolas stared moodily into the distance. He had to win the boy's affection. He wasn't attracted to Martyn in the slightest, but he had to make Martyn fall for him to reaffirm his belief in himself as the most beautiful, desirable creature in Middle Earth. Suddenly he grinned and scrambled up.  
  
"Aragorn, get your bow."  
  
"What? Legolas, surely you're not thinking of shooting the poor boy?" demanded Aragorn, getting up.  
  
"Don't be silly. I have another cunning plan, and this time it can't fail!" 


	6. As good as a soap opera

Hi guys! After way too long, I have decided to resume my writing again, partly because I'm feeling a lot happier at the moment, but mainly because I think you guys would lynch me if I left this any longer ;)   
  
Thanks to: annakas, GreyLadyBast, Silver-Kalan, Sanely Challenged, Ezellohar Shark and WaterShadow.   
  
***  
  
"Right, then," said Legolas, leading Aragorn away from the group, "this is my plan: We go hunting for supper, I get lost, you come back and lead a search party back for me. The search party splits up into two groups, Martyn in yours, Boromir in the other. You find me, and I'm so grateful to see you that I kiss you." The elf laughed, ignoring Aragorn's stunned face.   
  
"Wait... you *kiss* me? As in like..."   
  
"Yes. Make the boy jealous. Brilliant, isn't it?"   
  
"Legolas... sorry to disappoint you, friend, but I'm not attracted to you in that way."   
  
"That doesn't matter. As soon as the boy falls for me, I'll let you go."   
  
"Great, that means I'm stuck with you forever," groaned Aragorn, following the happily skipping elf deeper into the forest.   
  
They walked on for about twenty minutes, Legolas muttering under his breath and Aragorn dreading the implications of his latest crazy plan. Finally, the elf stopped under an impressive-looking oak tree with a hole in the trunk big enough for him to crawl into.   
  
"I'll hide here. Go back to the camp and bring the boy to me!"   
  
"You're insane!" muttered Aragorn, turning back to the camp.   
  
*  
  
"Hey, Aragorn, where's the grouch?" asked Martyn as the ranger arrived back at the camp.   
  
"I don't know, I've lost him," murmured Aragorn, ignoring the others' looks of surprise. Elves never got lost. He sighed. Damn him...   
  
"We need to find him. Martyn, Frodo, Sam, Gimli, come with me. We'll search the forest. You others, wait here in case he comes back to camp." Without looking back to see if the others were following him, the ranger turned and strode off into the forest.   
  
"That elf really needs a lobotomy," Martyn murmured, as Aragorn led them on a roundabout rout to the oak tree that Legolas was hiding in.   
  
"What's a lobotomy?" asked Sam.   
  
"It's an operation that can alter someone's personality."   
  
"Great! We can give him one when we get back," muttered Aragorn. He sighed again. "If there was a competition for 'Most Stupid Plan Of The Year' he'd win hands down." Martyn sniggered.   
  
"I have a Cunning Plan, my lord!" he mimicked, laughing. The others stared at him in surprise, Gimli edging further away from the boy.   
  
"If he starts to froth at the mouth, you grab his arms and I'll hit him with my axe," he muttered to Frodo.   
  
"No, I'm not insane, it's just a TV programme in my world, called Blackadder... Blackadder's always getting into trouble and his servant Baldrick always comes up with a Cunning Plan to get him out of it, which always goes wrong." The others just stared at him, then shrugged and continued looking for the elf. They were slowly getting used to the boy's rambling.   
  
The group slowly reached Legolas' hiding place. Aragorn steadied himself for the inevitable.   
  
"ARAGOOOOOORN!" Legolas jumped out of the tree and embraced the ranger. "Thank goodness you've arrived, I was getting so scared!" The elf kissed the ranger, forcing his tongue into his mouth.   
  
Aragorn tried to push the elf away, but he was gripping the ranger too tightly. And, as the kiss went on, he realised that it wasn't actually as bad as he thought it would be; in fact, it was rather pleasant. He gave a little moan of disappointment as Legolas broke the kiss and grabbed his hand.   
  
Martyn stared in disbelief as the elf led the stunned ranger back to camp, skipping happily. Then he started to laugh. So that was his game? Try and make him jealous? Hah, yeah right. It would be interesting to see where this latest game would lead...   
  
Still laughing, he followed the odd couple back to camp. The elf was as good as a soap opera any day. 


End file.
